OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO" OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO' OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO" OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO' OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| | | | There Ain't No Justice | | | | #66 | | | |-----------------------------------------------------------------------------| - Blood Lust 03: The Marriage - by Anonymous Bosch I could turn my back on him now. Tied to the bed as he was, he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. Ever again, really, but you get my point. As I turned away from him, I could hear him sigh... his naked body lie prostrate on the bed, his erection barely reaching the height of his belly. I reached for my purse, purring reassurances at him, while I pullled forth the blindfold, and began to wrap it around his eyes. He nipped at my breast then, suckled it really, drawing my teat nearly full into his mouth. Next came out of my purse came the gag, which I shoved in his mouth when he tried for the other breast. That accomplished, I removed the blindfold, and showed him my knife. Terror flowed to his every extremity, and the idiot actually pissed himself in fear. I began talking to him, purring in my sexiest tone, telling him all the fun we were going to have. I described to him the way my knife would feel, cutting into his tenderest parts. I told him how much I wanted to lick the blood from his quivering body, to taste the fear and how aroused the terror in his eyes was making me feel. I took my knife, and cut my own palm, and smeared my blood across his face, and tenderly licked it from his cheek. One look into his eyes, and the terror took a step back... it was still there, mind you, but he had lost the will to do anything about it. I headed for the bathroom, returning with a towel to clean him up with. He softened somewhat when when I began to cleanse him, maybe he actually thought that this night was going to end the way he'd thought it would. Well, he was half right... this night would certainly be the most memorable experience he'd ever have.... Once I'd gotten him clean again, I began to tease him with my tongue. He couldn't see the knife, and I think that comforted him. When he'd gotten as hard as he was going to, I climbed up on top of him, and slowly sank my vagina down on his erection. I began to move my hips above him, and I guess he was trying to smile around the gag. He rolled his eyes at me, and thats when I cut him first, starting at his right wrist, and slowly drawing my way down his arm and across his chest. He didn't look scared again until I drew the blade across his right nipple, cutting it in half. I bent then, and gently licked the ruined, useless thing, savoring the taste of his agony. As I slowly rocked my hips, drawing him deep inside me, I cut him a little more. The combination of pleasure and pain was driving him into a frenzy, but I had no intention of letting him ruin my fun. So I stilled my movements for a little while, and took the time to properly carve the proper symbols into his chest. Every now and then, he'd start to struggle, but a thrust of my hips and a meeting of eyes would calm him. When I finally pulled him out of my pussy, I smiled my best smile at him, the one that really showed off my teeth. I knew that the time had come. I slid down the bed, past the point where I could easily meet his eyes. I pushed myself up, though, so I could watch his expression when the cold steel met the warm flesh of his insignifigant penis. Taking his cock firmly in my hands, I slashed the top of it, stretching the foreskin up and over the head of his penis to give him a free circumcision. His whole body jerked with that, but I quickly pushed him back down against the mattress, and buried his cock in my mouth. The taste of the blood, mixed with the taste of my pussy, and the scent of his fear was driving me into a frenzy. "Soon, soon..." I assured him. I pulled his cock out of my mouth, and made a hundred tiny pinpricks on the head of his penis, and quickly lapped the blood that fairly shot from his engorged member. Pinching it, I shoved his bleeding unit into my pussy, clenching him tightly to cause even more of his lifesblood to spurt its way towards my womb. As I moved on his cock, I continued to trace the she'ke'ri into his abdomen and chest. I worked his penis slowly, building him towards his orgasm, towards the moment when the combined release of his passion and my release of his soul would send his lifeforce directly into mine, giving me the food to go with my drink. I could feel his muscles tighten, just so... I drew the final passage of the she'ke'ri in a single, practiced mannuever, and threw myself down between his legs, to be there when he reached his coda. With a single, graceful cut, I slashed his cock in half, from the scrotum up, much like a hot dog being prepared for cheese and bacon. His semen mixed with his blood, and I drank it all, and tossed my knife overhand over my back, with just the right spin to send it plunging into his throat at the end of its path. The she'ke'ri I had drawn on him was complete, and as he died his soul flowed out through his ruined cock and into myself. I slept a little while then, beside the cooling corpse I had so recently drained. Upon rising to meet the new day, I took a few moments to artistically arrange his intestines upon his chest, like a coiled snake. I undid the ropes that had bound him, pushing them back into my purse. Good, soft rope can be so hard to find, you know. I took a quick shower, and then I called for room service. When a young girl came to the room with my tray I let her in, and closed the door. When she had finished uncovering the tray and pouring the juice, I smiled my best come hither smile, and gave her a wink. She smiled and blushed, so I took a step closer to her, closing the distance between us. I let my robe drop open, giving her a clear view of my body. She blushed even more, and opened her mouth as if to ask a question. I answered it by coming even closer, and placing my hand on her shoulder. I caressed her hair, and she giggled, high and sweet. She was all of maybe 18, 19 maybe, but she knew what I wanted. At least, she thought she did. I drew her towards me, and kissed her. She held back for a moment, then she gave herself over to the kiss, letting her tongue explore my mouth while my hands undid her blouse. I turned her around so that her eyes woudn't stray to the partially open bedroom door, and moved her over towards the couch. As she sat on the couch and finished unbuttoning her blouse, I let my robe drop to the floor. I knelt before her and pulled her panties down around her ankles, then drew myself back up for another kiss. When her tongue was again exploring my mouth I placed my hand on the back of her head and inhaled, sharply, drawing her tongue even further into my mouth. The explosion of blood when I bit it off sprayed both our faces when she jerked free of my grasp. The confusion and fear in her eyes, combined with the blood covering her chin and breasts made her the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I smiled at her as I swallowed her tongue, and when I licked my lips, she tried to run, but she was too slow. And besides, the panties around her ankles were SUPPOSED to trip her. I grabbed her before she'd gone five feet, and rolled over on top of her. She tried to scream, but without a tongue, a moist gurgle was the best she could manage. I dug my nails into her cheek, drawing four thick, red lines down her neck and shoulder. Holding her by her hair, I kissed her bleeding mouth again, and held her down as her desperately tossing, blood slicked body between my thighs brought me to an explosive orgasm. I smiled at her then, and thanked her, and with a gesture, willed my purse to come to me from the bedroom. Her eyes watched, transfixed, as it slid across the carpet to my waiting hand. She tried to say something, but it just made a wet, gurgling sound. Drawing my knife from my purse, I gently placed the tip of the blade against her throat, and then I pounded it down sharply, pinning her to the floor. I got up, and walked over to the server's cart, and brought a spoon back with me. As her fingers worked desperately to try and free the knife from the floor in a vain effort at escape, I straightened her hair out above her so I could kneel on it, and looked longingly into her eyes. I spooned out the right one first, savoring the taste of it. I blew her a kiss, then I took the left one. I do so love fresh eyes for breakfast. She convulsed a half dozen times, and then shock & blood loss took their toll, and she collapsed. I carried the body of the maid over to the bed, and bound her up with the intestines of last night's prey. It took some doing, but as rigor set in, I managed to set the right tableau. She sat astride his hips, her face coated in a fine sheen of fresh blood, her empty eyesockets stuffed with the remnants of the man's testicles. My art complete, I took yet another, longer shower, and then returned. I stepped over to the window ledge, and looked down. It being December, nobody was out by the pool, so I opened the window and stepped out, dropping six stories to the pavement below, landing in a crouch. A warm feeling spread all thru my body, as the energy I had stored healed the injuries I had just sustained. I stood up in a second, shook myself a bit, and casually strode out thru the lobby. As I strolled down the main avenue in town, I allowed myself to laugh. But then, a long black limosine pulled up alongside of me, and the driver gestured for me to get in the back. I got inside, and settled back for the ride back to Caine's office. I rode the elevator to the top, more anxious than usual. Why I didn't know. I was quietly ushered into the executive suite, where, to my suprise, sat a familiar looking young man dressed in a dark business suit. Caine was being his usual insufferably arrogant self, so I took the initiative with the stranger. "And who might you be, and where do I know you from?" I asked him. Caine interrupted his reply, saying "Elaana, I want you to meet Mordecai, the twin brother who was seperated from you at birth." Mordecai...MORDECAI? I thought. I looked him over a second time, noticing the similarity in our faces and body frames anew. Mordecai stood, and walked over to me and swept into a low bow. I offered him my hand and he kissed it, nipping the back of my hand hard enough to draw blood. Although the small cut healed almost instantly, I could see that the taste of my blood sent quivers through his body. I grasped his hand and drew it towards me, examining his palm. I traced his lifeline with my fingernail, following it down almost to his wrist. I drew his hand closer to my face, and bit off the tip of his index finger. The taste of his blood was like the first time I'd ever felt the lust. My mind expanded a thousandfold, every movement in the room slowing down and acquiring a dreamlike intensity. Caine interposed himself between us then, speaking so softly I could barely hear him. Nothing he could possibly say could be as important as what my mind was feeling. I examined my brother carefully. He looked at me, and gave a sly wink. Then he moved so quickly I almost didn't see the knives drop out of his sleeves and into his hands. With a howl of fury, Mordecai plunged his knives into Caine's throat, severing both the carotid and the jugular. A startled look of suprise and disbelief transformed Caine's face for an instant, a look which faded into agony when I brought my own knife up in a belly cut, spilling his insides out upon the floor like a sack of wet grain. All my life, I had feared this man, who claimed to be my (our) father. He had taught me eveything I knew of the nature of our curse, this lust for the blood of our own kind. He had taught me the she'ke'ri, and the uses of the pentagram in increasing the flow of energy form a victim. Alone, I would never have dared to raise a hand against him, he who claimed to have lain with a succubis to produce a more perfect extension of himself, us, his children. Mordecai stood behind him now, his knives flashing in and out of Caine's back, cutting his fancy silk suit to ribbons. Caine's face was changing before my eyes, going from shock, to fear, to amusement, as I drove my knife into his abdomen again and again. I glanced at Mordecai, and he took a step back from Caine, as I crouched low and executed a circle kick that knocked Caine back onto his expensive oriental carpet, under which I knew lay his personal pentagram, carved from the solid marble of the floor and inlaid with silver. Mordecai caught him there, and buried his face in Caine's throat, as I moved over and shoved my face into the open cavity of his abdomen, lapping at the flow of blood rushing from inside him. I could feel the power growing underneath us. Caine was old... hundreds, maybe thousands of years old. The taste of his blood burned my mouth, and set my throat ablaze. But the taste of it was burning itself into my brain as well, showing me visions of things only guessed at. In the distance, I could hear a low chanting begin, to the acompanyment of a flute... the steady light of the office was now the guttering of torches. I could hear Mordecai groaning, as he too, felt the burning of our father's blood in his mouth. And throughout it all, Caine began to laugh. Even as I cut away his trousers and began to carve at his penis in my favorite spiral pattern, his body shook with manaical laughter, until Mordecai silenced him by twisting his head off. Caine's body fell in a heap then, and the backlash of power in the pentagram flared into light and sound, throwing both I and my brother against the walls. I awoke I don't know how much later. It was dark outside, and the city lights lit the skyline like a million twinkling stars. I was covered in blood, and my clothing hung in tatters around me. Mordecai didn't look much better, but he was up, and had already begun removing candles from one of Caine's cabinets. Caine's head sat on his desk, eyes glittering in the light. I could almost swear it winked at me. I pulled the carpet from off of Caine's pentagram, and saw that the backlash of energy before had actually cracked the marble of the floor. All of the cracks were contained within its boundaries, so it remained unbroken. Mordecai handed me a pair of candles and I placed them in the two corners nearest me. I stood, and shrugged out of what was left of my clothing. I struck my best pose for my brother, as he picked up the phone from off of the floor and hit the intercom button. He said "It is time," into the receiver, and then ripped it from the wall. Mordecai's eyes travelled the length of my body, and a warm, giddy feeling filled my insides. He, too, disrobed, and the light of the candles cast flickering, enticing shadows across his strong, athletic form. He took me in his arms and kissed me, long and deep, and the feeling of him hardening against my thigh was more electric than the taste of any prey I had ever taken. The door opened, quietly, and we stepped apart as thirteen people entered the room, single file. They were dressed in coarse robes of a dark material. From the scent of it, I guessed that they had been dyed in dried blood. They arranged themselves in a line between the door and the windows, as five more, dressed in black silk entered the room, carrying instruments and a large brazier. The last one in sealed the door with a gesture. Mordecai began a chant I had never heard before, or had I? The Five in Silk set up the brazier at the head of the pentagram, as the Thirteen in Blood arranged themselves around the pentagram, asymetrically. Mordecai's voice was lower than a whisper, but it filled the room. Once the brazier was secure, the Five in Silk took up their instruments and began to play. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew that this chant and melody were part of a ritual older than history, older than Caine, perhaps. It was a wedding chant. My heart beat faster... Unspoken, yet understood, Mordecai felt as I did. The kinslaying had been but the first part of the ritual. The music of the Five rose in volume, as Mordecai crossed the room and picked up Caine's head from off the desk. He placed it in the center of the brazier, and it began to burn... but yet it did not. Thick, sweet smelling red smoke began to pour from the brazier, congealing in the center of the pentacle. It took shape slowly, a rough block of blood red stone with a man sized impression in its center. A trough ran up from the foot of the altar, ending in the brazier. The first of the Thirteen dropped her robes, and stepped up onto the altar and took her place. Mordecai took his knife up from the floor and began to cut her in a pattern similar to my she'ke'ri, but as I saw, patterned differently, a more masculine style. The blood of the sacrifice pooled about her on the altar, and began to slowly drain UPHILL, to pour into the brazier. Her face was serene as Mordecai cut out her heart, which he placed into the brazier whole. The next supplicant upon the altar was male, and I took my turn at rendering the sacrifice. But instead of the heart, I somehow knew it was the penis that must be placed into the brazier. Five more times we repeated the sequence, while the Five played their music. The tempo and the beat of the music beat at my mind, half familiar. By the time we'd reached the last supplicant, I finally did recognise the tune. It was an old song, by an industrial band called NIN... Ringfinger? It sounded weirdly distorted when played on flute and lyre, but I felt a sense of pride in having recognised it. When the last of the Thirteen dropped its robes, I let out a little gasp. It wasn't.... human. Not at all. It had the head of a goat, and the upper body of a man, and its lower body was that of a goat as well. Mordecai stood to the right of it, and I stood to the left, and together we began to cut our patterns... I'd never realized how well they would interlock. But instead of blood, where our blades cut the goat thing, tiny tongues of flame emerged instead. The brazier above the altar began to glow brighter, and the blood which had drained from the sacrifices began to flow back to the altar, washing it and the two of us with warm, rich blood. As we cut out the heart of the goat thing, its body burst into flame, burning itself away in moments, leaving only bare, bloodwashed stone. We leaned over the altar and took bites of the heart... Mordecai grabbed me then, and roughly pulled me down onto the altar. As I felt my body drop into the depression there, I could feel the blood washing over me... it felt so good. Mordecai took his knife and parted the lips of my vagina then, and as the heated steel sank into my vagina I set my own knife to carving the She'ke'ri into my brother/husband's chest. I could feel him bring the knife up, to begin carving my chest, my arms, my face. As we lay entwined upon the altar, our patterns merged and changed, became more complex. Mordecai rose and mounted me, and the tempo of the Five changed, keeping cadance with Mordecai's thrusts within me. I couldn't feel the familiar warmth of the stored soul energy healing my wounds, but then again, I didn't care. This was what I had lived my life in preparation for. This night, this one, last lover. Absently, my left hand continued tracing its patterns into Mordecai's back, sometimes flashing to cut his face. His blood dripped down upon my face and I strained to catch it as he orgasmed inside me. He smiled a sad little smile then, and said to me: "The final cut is yours, my love." And without any thought from me, my knife sliced deep into his throat. His blood spilled out over both of us as his limp form fell off to the side of the altar. I tried to catch him, but I could not... The Five began playing a new tune, then. I was paralyzed, I couldn't move a single limb. I could feel the blood congealing around my body, hardening like cement. In my mind's eye, I saw the ceiling overhead fly off into the night sky, as if it had been torn away by a giant's hand. The goat thing rose from the floor, and stepped gingerly over to the brazier, and drew forth my father's blackened head. I heard it speak in a language I did not know, and somewhere deep inside I knew fear for the first time in decades when my father's head answered him, in the same language. At first, I could barely feel it, but yes, something was stirring within my womb. I could feel the skin of my stomach swelling, and I tried to scream but could not. The goat thing addressed my father's head again, and this time I could almost understand the word, "soon". I could strain my eyes downward enough to see that my belly was now apparantly large with child, though from the angle I'd have sworn it was twins, perhaps triplets. And then, for the first time in my life, I understood PAIN... Somewhere inside me, something with claws and teeth wanted OUT. Wanted out NOW. I glanced at the night sky, and I saw three stars, converging. Then, to the accompanyment of flutes, a woman's scream and a wet, sucking sound, a child of Hell tore its way into the night air. The goat thing and Caine regarded one another, and laughed. ú ùþ ú ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú ±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú ±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù ±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ ²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ ²²²²Ûß ú ù ²²²ÛÝ ²²²ÛÜ ±²²²ÛÝ ±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ ±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ Phoenix Modernz Systems: 908/830-TANJ ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û The Syndicate: 908/506-6651 ÛÛ±±±±±±²²²Û Another Bloody BBS: 61-3-734-3599 ±±±²²²²²²ÛÜ First United Church Kalisti: M.I.A. ±±²²²ÛÜÜÜ INFoMoDiTiES: M.I.A. ±²²²ÛÝ ²²²ÛÜ ²²²ÛÝ ²²²²Ûß ú ù ²²²²²Ûß þúßÞþßþþÜùþ ±±²²²²ÛÛßßÛßÝÛÛÛÛÛÝÜúþ ±±±±²²²²²ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜþúÝ ù ±±±±ÛÛÛßÛ²ÝÛÝÛÛÝþ Üú ÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜþÜÜÜÜ ú ù ú